


Subspace Landline

by pencilguin



Series: Fictober 2018 [7]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Butterflies, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Paul is a gaming nerd; you can't change my mind, Pre-Relationship, Texting, mutual pining in the early stages, sick Paul is a bored Paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: Between their first encounter on Alpha Centauri and their reunion on the Discovery, Paul and Hugh spend many, many hours having long-distance conversations and phone calls and video chats, inevitably building a deep friendship ... and eventually more.A collection of one-shots.





	1. Blue Morpho

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr as part of the Fictober 2018 challenge. Unbeta'd; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there.

Hugh hurried to get home from his shift, letting the door click shut behind him and hastily throwing his coat on the hook so he wouldn’t be late for Paul’s routine call. With every passing day, every single call, every obscure mushroom joke and shy smile he had grown to like their conversations more … grown to like _Paul_ more. He tried not to think about the implications of that, because it brought with it a number of difficult questions that would need to be addressed and that Hugh wasn’t ready for yet. Right now, he just wanted to focus on the thing he had been looking forward to all day. 

The call came in punctual as always—as Hugh had noticed. He hadn’t gotten the impression so far that Paul was very reliable when it came to interpersonal obligations and interactions in general, but here he was, always making time for Hugh, always being on time when they scheduled their calls because Hugh’s shifts were being tricky again—and, most importantly, not once appearing as though he wasn’t absolutely delighted to have the opportunity to spend some time with Hugh, even if it was only “virtual”. The thought made a glowing warmth spread inside Hugh’s chest. 

Although he frowned when Paul told him about how he passed out in his “garden” after doing one of the stupidest things Hugh could possibly imagine him ever doing. 

“Okay, Paul, I received your medical file, and I’ll have a look at it. Now, would you please explain to me again _why_ you thought it was a good idea to _lick the space fungi_?” 

Paul rolled his eyes. 

“You sound like my mother. Don’t tell me you’ve never been curious what something tastes like and just went for it.” 

Hugh ran a hand over his forehead. 

“Yes, but I outgrew that phase when I was five.” 

“Well, we can’t all be mature like that. Just let me know if you find anything that looks dangerous and wasn’t there before.” 

“And what if I do? Will you actually follow my medical advice?” Hugh asked, still frowning, but with a small grin playing around his lips that refused to go away. 

“Well,” Paul responded nonchalantly, “that would obviously depend on the advice.” 

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes, leaned against his kitchen counter and crossing his arms, still half in uniform. Normally he’d have changed out of the white Starfleet slacks and black tank top undershirt as well first thing when he got home, but in his hurry he had barely managed to take off his jacket and boots before the call, and he didn’t want to freak Paul out by undressing in front of him in the middle of a video call. That might send the wrong message, and they had only been talking for less than a month, after all. 

“Anyway, what I was going to say was, there’s something else in the files I sent you.” There was the mysterious shy smile again, looking so unusual on the fearless scientist’s face but stunning nonetheless. For some time now Hugh had been trying to figure out what it meant. It always seemed as if Paul was containing his excitement until he had figured out if Hugh would find it appropriate or not. 

“Oh?” Hugh let his arms relax and took a step closer to the screen. “What is it?” 

“We had to attend a boring business meeting yesterday with a boring fancy dinner and some boring sightseeing. But we did go to the butterfly garden here, and I took a few pictures for you.” 

“Really?” Hugh’s face lit up, and he opened the folder Paul had sent in a window next to the video chat screen. “I love butterflies.” 

At that, Paul’s smile turned soft and warm, and the hint of nervousness just melted away. 

“I know you do.” 

Hugh’s heart made a small leap. Probably grinning like an idiot but unable to do anything about it, he tore his eyes away from Paul’s face and looked at the photos, and a few short video clips, that Paul had made of some of the most stunning and exotic butterflies and moths native to Deneva and several other planets within the Federation—including a few from Earth. 

“I can see why you like them so much. It was incredible. And they were _everywhere_. One even landed on my hand and just sat there for a minute—a blue morpho!” 

“Those are my favorites,” Hugh said absent-mindedly as he found the video of the incident. Straal must have recorded it. He watched in awed silence as the giant insect fluttered right in front of Paul’s nose for a few seconds before it settled down on the back of his hand, which was holding on to the railing of the path. 

“I didn’t realize they were so huge,” Paul continued. “Each of its wings was at least five centimeters wide.” 

“Yeah, they’re …” Hugh’s voice trailed off because in the video, the morpho abandoned Paul’s hand and fluttered upwards again, drawing his attention. 

“And so _unbelievably_ blue! I had no idea that a color as brilliant as that could even exist naturally on Earth.” 

The morpho in the video settled down on Paul’s hair, its wings hanging slightly into Paul’s face, and the sight was so adorable and so _perfect_ that it took Hugh’s breath away. 

“Hugh?” Paul asked. “Are you okay? You look funny.” 

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “They’re a perfect shade of blue. Just like your eyes.” 

At his words, Paul’s cheeks flushed bright pink. Suddenly the butterflies seemed to be inside Hugh’s stomach. 

_Oh. Well._

“Have …” Paul cleared his throat. “Have you ever seen one?” 

“Only once, as a child,” Hugh said. “I wonder if they’re as beautiful in reality as I remember.” 

“Well, if you’re ever on Deneva we can go there together. If you want, I mean.” The shy smile was back. 

“Yes,” Hugh responded softly. “I’d love to do that.” 


	2. Lazy Afternoons

It was another one of their lazy late-night conversations. “Late-night” only for Paul, of course, who was draped messily across his bed at the moment, PADD in hand. Meanwhile, Hugh was sitting at his own kitchen counter and enjoying his morning coffee—or noon coffee, to be precise, as his shift was about to start in the early afternoon. Just talking to each other about inanities, about this and that, and mostly really just enjoying the other’s company. Honestly, Paul wasn’t sure what exactly their relationship was at this moment; they had been tiptoeing around the question for a while, “Are we _dating_? Is this a long-distance relationship?” It seemed Hugh wasn’t entirely sure about it, either, and Paul didn’t know how to bring it up. It always felt awkward and out of place to ask. 

All he knew was that he loved it, and while he was not averse to … _something_ more, whatever that would end up being, he also greatly enjoyed what they currently had. 

“There’s this conference coming up in two months that I’m going to attend,” Hugh was saying. “And the date and time aren’t one hundred percent fixed yet but it looks like it’s going to be somewhere near Deneva in mid-November … well, Earth’s time,” he added. 

Paul smiled. “Yeah, I know. You never really stop converting it, do you?” 

“It’s nice here, but I do miss home. Especially seeing my extended family.” 

“They sound like great people.” 

“They absolutely are. I’m sure you’d enjoy it there. And my mom and my sisters would adore you.” 

“Well, I hope I’ll get the chance to meet them one day.” 

If Hugh was reading any implications into that statement, he wasn’t showing it. 

“November doesn’t look too busy yet, actually,” Paul continued after a bit. “I should be able to free up some time and meet you then.” 

Hugh smiled behind his cup of coffee. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” He pondered for a moment. “Hey Paul, what do you miss most from home?” 

“Video games,” Paul responded easily. “Or—well, I guess free, lazy afternoons, sleeping in and playing video games all day. November’s usually a good month for that. Rainy weather outside, being wrapped in blankets and drinking tea or hot chocolate and wearing fuzzy, warm socks.” 

“That sounds cozy.” 

“It is.” Paul smiled to himself, getting lost in thoughts of sitting in a nest of blankets and pillows with the controller in his hands and Hugh snuggled up next to him. 

_… Oh. Well._

He pulled his mind back into the present. 

“I had to leave all my old gaming consoles at home. Of course I could probably obtain one here but I don’t really have the time anymore. There’s always so much work.” 

“One day …” Hugh looked like he was spacing out as well now, staring over to the right, somewhere off-screen. Based on the lighting in his kitchen, Paul assumed it was the window. “One day, when we’re able to spend a lot more time together, and you’ve succeeded with your breakthrough in mycelial transportation, I want to do that together.” 

“What, gaming and wrapping up in blankets with tea and hot chocolate?” 

Hugh turned back to him, smiling brightly. 

“Yes, that’d be nice.” 

Something warm and fluttery spawned in Paul’s stomach. The mental image from earlier returned, but more vivid, more tangible than before. 

“Really?” 

“I know how much you love video games.” Hugh set his coffee cup down on the counter and wrapped both hands around it. “Tell me more about it.” 

“I love getting immersed in the world of a game. Of course books and films are nice, too, but there’s just something special about it. And if you’re there and you want to, we can play together. That’s a lot of fun, too.” He remembered something. “I actually enjoy traditional board games and card games and stuff like that as well. I just don’t have anyone to play them with, most of the time.” 

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun!” Seeing and hearing Hugh’s excitement made his heart do another leap. “We’re gonna play so many games together!” 

“That would be amazing,” Paul replied with a warm smile. 

“Maybe not in November, though,” Hugh said after another moment. “There probably won’t be a lot of time for that, sadly.” 

“Yeah.” Paul shook his head. “It’s more fun if you’re not pressed for time.” 

“One day,” Hugh said softly, and Paul could feel the answer to his question somewhere deep down in his heart, even though it might not register yet inside his brain. “I promise. One day we’re going to have all the time in the world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two chapters from the Fictober challenge are all I have so far. But I really like the concept of these and writing them was a lot of fun. So, hopefully, there will be more of them in the future, though I can't promise anything yet.


	3. Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not technically a conversation between Paul and Hugh, of course, but it ties in well with the theme so I’m including it here anyway. It was also written for Fictober. 
> 
> Also, on a sidenote: Future chapters probably won’t be in chronological order.

“Why won’t you see that this could be a great opportunity? For us _and_ for our work?”

Paul’s patience was really wearing thin now.

“Because it’s _Starfleet_!” he yelled, for what felt like the millionth time. “They can play nice and pretend to be peaceful all they want, they will always be a military organization!”

“So what?” Justin shouted back. “You heard what they said: _Propulsion_ , Paul. Not weapons. Stop being so paranoid.”

“That’s what they’re _telling us now_ ,” Paul insisted. He threw his arms up in frustration. Remember ‘The Physicists’?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Not this again,” he mumbled.

“We’re scientists! We have to be aware of the consequences of our actions! We are responsible for what happens to our discoveries! This is exactly how humanity nearly destroyed itself and the planet in the twentieth and twenty-first century!”

“Okay,” Justin said assertively. “Tell me then, if Starfleet is really as you think they are: What is going to happen to our research if we keep it civilian? You think that’s going to prevent their access to it? You think they won’t be able to buy it, or acquire it in some other way, once it’s usable on a larger scale? What’s going to stop them then?”

Paul said nothing.

“Wouldn’t you rather be involved in the process, have some say in it, some control over what they’re going to do?”

He avoided Justin’s eyes.

“I still won’t work for them.” He tried to make it sound final. Justin didn’t look impressed. “Besides, do we really have to go on a Starfleet spaceship to continue our research? Why can’t we do that from here, or from Earth?”

“What, I thought you always wanted to travel across the stars? What happened to that?”

Paul bit his lip, cheeks flushing bright pink.

“You were never meant to hear about that.”

Justin grinned.

“But the photos were so adorable, and your scrawly crayon handwriting was really endearing. ‘One day I will travel across the universe and explore the lifeforms on all those other planets.’ So cute. Always dreaming big.”

“If she wasn’t my mother I would kill her for showing you that,” Paul muttered, trying to will the color to leave his cheeks but failing. He had already vowed to never introduce another work colleague to his family again. To be honest, he already dreaded the day they would meet Hugh. Well—if they ever got that far in their relationship. Sometimes he still wasn’t sure where they were standing on the Normal People Dating Scale. Paul had traditionally been a disaster at that stuff and never really gotten the hang of it.

“So?”

“So what?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was a _kid_ , Justin! People change when they grow up.”

“Oh, come on, do you really think I’m that stupid? You still love space.”

“It’s … impractical. We’re going to be so far away, always somewhere else, no schedule or anything …”

Justin frowned at him.

“Why does that matter to you all of a sudden?”

Paul started fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve unconsciously.

“Why shouldn’t it?”

Justin crossed his arms.

“This can’t be about your family, it’s never bothered you before to not even see them in years. And you know I broke up with Amelia, so don’t even try to pretend that this is about me.”

Paul kept staring a hole into the floor, feeling his cheeks heat up again. He awkwardly cleared his throat, but somehow no words found their way off his tongue.

“No way.” Justin let his arms fall to his sides and took a step towards him. “Don’t tell me you’re seeing someone.”

“Mm…maybe.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I fail to see how that is any of your busin—”

“ _You didn’t tell me?_ ” Was he … gloating? His voice and expression were definitely much too cheerful. And now he was right in Paul’s face like the nosy gossip vulture he was, and Paul regretted the entire conversation that had led to this moment. “Tell me! Tell me! Who is it? Do I know them? Is it someone here on Deneva? How come I’m only hearing about this _now_? _Tell me everything_.”

Paul sighed in defeat and sat down in his lab chair, because this was going to take a while. “Don’t get too excited.”

Justin nodded enthusiastically as he sat down across from him and leaned forward, eager for details.

“Well.” Paul cleared his throat again. “His name is Hugh. He’s a doctor in Starfleet. I met him back on Alpha Centauri.”

“Alpha Centauri?” Justin interrupted him. “That was almost two years ago! And you never bothered to tell me? But—” At the look Paul gave him, he shut up. “Sorry.”

“We started talking long distance and everything and it … it evolved, kind of.” He remembered long nights working in the lab alone with Hugh keeping him company, talking for hours and completely forgetting time, Hugh telling him stories about his family or about how his day had been or what sights he’d like to see if he ever visited Deneva or one of the other inhabitable planets in the system. And as was so often the case, thinking of Hugh made him smile.

“So he’s not from here?” Justin asked.

“No,” Paul responded with a short, hollow laugh. “He’s thousands of lightyears away from here right now. But we met in between, twice, when he or I was somewhere closer to attend some conference and we managed to make time in our schedules for it.”

Justin grinned a knowing grin. “Shouldn’t it be in your own interest then to make mycelial travel widely accessible, so that the two of you could meet more often?”

Paul leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah, that’d be awesome. But I don’t think that’s going to happen on a spaceship in the middle of the Klingon war.”

“Wait a second.” Justin furrowed his brows and started stroking his chin. “You said he’s Starfleet. What if …”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Whatever you’re about to say: No.”

“But imagine, if he _was_ stationed on the same ship as you …”

“Absolutely not. I’m not going to ask anyone to turn his entire life upside down and jump into the frontlines of a war just so we can spend more time together.”

“Don’t try to tell me you’re happy with just this. I don’t believe you wouldn’t want to be closer to him if you could.”

Paul entertained the thought. Not for the first time, admittedly, but Justin didn’t need to hear that. Then he shook his head, because it hurt to think about the things he couldn’t get.

“I don’t know where you’re getting your ideas.”

“Oh, come on. Stop trying to pretend you don’t have human emotions, I’ve known you long enough to see through your bullshit.”

“You’re very good at making baseless assumptions.”

He smirked.

“Some people call this wisdom.” In a slightly more serious tone, he continued, “I may not have seen you be in a relationship in the decade I’ve known you, but that only makes it clearer that you’re different now. I’ve been wondering for a while, actually, and now it all makes sense.”

Paul glared at him. He didn’t like people reading him so easily like that. Unless “people” was Hugh, maybe.

“Besides, if he’s Starfleet, and you’re Starfleet, there’s still a chance it might be easier for you to meet. And to communicate in general.”

Paul sighed and stood up.

“This conversation is pointless and I’m tired. You’re not going to persuade me to hand my life’s work over to Starfleet. Good night, Justin.”

And with that, he walked out of the lab and made his way back home. Hugh was still going to be on shift for the next six hours, and even if he had time, Paul wouldn’t have known what to say about the subject. But once again he was lying awake and couldn’t stop thinking about a hypothetical kind of future they might have, where they were both together on a spaceship, traveling the stars and searching for scientific wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *“The Physicists” (“Die Physiker”) is a fantastic play by Swiss writer Friedrich Dürrenmatt that everyone should have read at least once in their lives tbh.


	4. Sleepy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter that wasn't part of Fictober! Unbeta'd as well, though; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there.

“Hey, Culber! Good job there today. I couldn’t have done that as well as you have. And neither could most other doctors in this ward.”

“Thanks,” Hugh responded with a smile. “But I’m not sure if that’s true. Everyone here is great at their job.”

“If you say so. Hey, a few of us are going out for drinks, you wanna come?”

“I’ve got plans tonight, but thank you.”

They grinned at him.

“A date?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. Have fun, everyone.”

“You too, Culber.” They winked. “And good luck!”

 

***

 

Back home, Hugh switched on his coffee maker and changed out of his uniform into comfortable clothes, then sat down on the couch with his PADD. The day had gone well, but he was still a little exhausted. And if he remembered Paul’s schedule correctly—they had exchanged access to each other’s work calendars to make planning their calls easier—then he should have finished his work for today by now and, Hugh hoped, had time to eat something, too. So he took a sip of his coffee and started the video call.

The sight that greeted him as soon as the connection was established was an unfamiliar view of an unfamiliar-looking room with half-dimmed lighting and a very sleepy Paul lying on his belly and framed by his blanket.

Hugh almost choked on his coffee.

“Huh ... Hugh? Good morning …” Paul mumbled, half into his pillow and his voice still a little rough and gosh, Hugh was in love. There was no point in trying to deny it. The sight of Paul squinting at him, bed hair sticking out in every direction, pillow creases on his cheek, and a warm and slightly disoriented little smile on his lips, was making him feel a lot of things, most of them soft and all of them very, very gay.

“Paul?! Oh, sorry—I didn’t know you were sleeping!” he managed in between coughs. “I should have checked your schedule again.”

“No, it’s … it’s not your fault,” Paul said while rubbing sleep out of his eyes. (Hugh melted, just a little. Or maybe a lot.) “We’ve started testing a new care routine for the kiddos. But I forgot to update the calendar …” He seemed to glance at the clock and groaned.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Hugh apologized. His face felt very hot, and he hoped that his blush didn’t show too much. Apparently Paul didn’t sleep shirtless, but the situation still felt overwhelmingly intimate and he couldn’t tell if Paul was comfortable with that.

“Don’t worry,” he responded. “But I’m about ten seconds away from dozing off again the moment you or I stop talking.”

“I won’t bother you for much longer, then. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Paul muttered. “So … unprofessional.”

“We’re friends, Paul,” Hugh responded with a calm smile. “You don’t need to be professional with me. I wouldn’t mind seeing you be unprofessional like this more often,” he added, realizing a second too late what he had just said.

Paul blushed. ( _Oh no._ ) Then he smiled softly. ( _Ohh … yes?_ )

“Maybe.”

Hugh’s heartbeat picked up speed, tripping over itself with excitement.

“Um, I’ll …” He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you sleep, then. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes! I’ll call you.”

“Okay. Good night, Paul.”

The smile brightened.

“Good night, Hugh.”

The call ended, and Hugh leaned back on the couch. Skipping a night out with his colleagues had absolutely been worth it.

He could tell that Paul liked him. He wasn’t sure if Paul loved him. The only thing he knew without a doubt was that he was absolutely, completely, hopelessly in love with Paul. And he couldn’t wait for him to call back and tell him in detail how his kiddos were doing.


	5. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct follow-up to the previous chapter. Looks like I couldn't let go of that scene just yet. Also unbeta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there.

Paul yawned into his cup of tea while he waited for the replicator to spit out his breakfast. The conversation with Hugh from last night replayed in his head for about the millionth time, and slowly, the strong urge to die of embarrassment on the spot was subsiding. 

For some reason, despite how tired he had been, every second had burned itself into his memory. He wasn’t sure if he should count himself lucky or not. For seeing Hugh flustered alone it had almost been worth it to get caught so off-guard, half-asleep and probably looking terribly unflattering. He had seriously considered getting his revenge and waking Hugh up with a call. 

He took a sip of his tea. Surely Hugh looked perfect even right after he woke up. Wouldn’t it be nice to find out …? But waking him up would be mean, he didn’t want to do that. _Maybe … maybe one day …_

“Maybe”, he had said, like the lying coward he was. “Maybe”, like there was anyone else in the universe he’d rather wake up next to. Hugh’s question had caught him so off-guard, but then his face had turned deep red, and he had looked as if he regretted those words. Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue. Maybe he hadn’t meant what Paul had wanted to hear. He didn’t want to make the situation more awkward. But fuck, if flustered Hugh wasn’t cute. 

He was waiting impatiently for a reasonable and appropriate time to call him back. He _had_ been happy to see Hugh and hear his voice, even though he had barely been able to keep his eyes open long enough to focus. He wanted to ask him about his day, see him smile, hear him laugh, make him frown because he had skipped lunch again, tell him about the new setup for the Stella nursery and maybe even make some plans for their upcoming meeting in … a few weeks. Too soon and at the same time unbearably far away. Would he even be prepared, know how to interact in person by then? What if everything was completely different, less … good? He already felt more and more uncertain with every call, every text message. 

He sighed and started chewing on his bagel before the rumbling of his stomach grew any louder. 

Paul Stamets was a fool who had let himself fall in love with a Starfleet doctor who was currently living half a quadrant away, despite the fact that he hated Starfleet, he hated doctors, and most of all he hated long-distance relationships. Of course he had, because that doctor turned out to be the most lovable man in the universe. Now if only he could figure out if those subtle signals he was getting meant that Hugh returned his feelings, or if it was all just too much wishful thinking on his part. The easiest way, probably, would be simply to ask. But could he do that? How would he bring that up in a conversation? Every single scenario he imagined ended up incredibly awkward and potentially ruining the good friendship they currently had. Not to mention that maybe, probably, definitely, he was terrified that the answer might be “no”. 

So he finished his bagel, checked the time again, decided that he had waited long enough, downed the rest of his tea, and called Hugh. 

“Oh—hi Paul!” was the cheerful greeting he received. Hugh looked fresh and awake and in high spirits. He let out a small breath of relief. “I hope you slept well?” 

“Well enough,” he responded. “What about you?” 

“Yeah, I was tired last night as well so I went to bed early, since I knew you’d call later.” 

“How was your day?” 

“Good, actually.” A lovely, confident smile lit up his face. “We had an emergency patient in critical condition yesterday. The whole procedure took five hours and was incredibly complicated, but the patient made it through and is on her way to recovery. It was exhausting, but I’m happy that I was able to help her.” 

Paul watched him with overwhelming fondness. 

“You’re amazing, Hugh.” 

And he blushed again. _Oh, how perfect._

“I just did my best. Um—tell me about the new routine! What’s up with that?” 

“Well, Straal noticed that the health of our latest _stellaviatori_ strand has been deteriorating lately, so we’re testing a new rotation for treating them. But it means we’ve had to set up completely new shifts for us and the whole team. We’ll be testing it for a couple of weeks or so, until we can determine if it has any effect, and then we might adjust it again. But it caused a lot of organizational chaos and I forgot to update my calendar. Sorry for your troubles, that was really all my fault.” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine, really.” 

“And sorry about the … uh, embarrassing scene you had to witness. I tend to be unpleasant when I’m tired.” 

Hugh smiled again. 

“I thought that was cute.” 

Wow. If Paul had thought his face had been burning before, that was nothing compared to now, after Hugh had called him “cute”. Sort of. 

“Um… Do you …” He cleared his throat. Swallowed the question. Instead he asked, “Tell me about that patient. What did you do? What kind of procedure was that?” 

Maybe he was imagining it, but for a second, Hugh looked a tiny bit disappointed, and he couldn’t figure out why. But when he started talking about his patient’s case it was gone, and he sounded just as passionate and delightful as always when he had something exciting to share about his work. Paul kept watching him, listening to him, wondering if he would ever be able to fall asleep to the sound of that voice next to him. 


	6. Recap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something from _very_ early on. It's actually older than the last two chapters, but I didn't want to post two Paul (and Straal) solo scenes without our space boos interacting in a row. And I adjusted the rating, just to be safe, because Paul's a potty mouth. :P  
> And as usual, this is unbeta'd. Actually, all of these chapters will probably be. (If that's a problem, though, feel free to let me know, because English isn't my first language.)

Paul watched the blur of celestial bodies flying by at warp speed outside the window. In the seat next to him, Straal had already dozed off. He hated traveling and usually spent most of the time sleeping. Paul was grateful for it, especially today, because it meant that he wasn’t forced to have a conversation he wouldn’t be paying attention to anyway. His mind was too restless. He kept glancing down at the PADD in his hand. The new contact info was still open. “Hugh Culber,” it read, followed by a comm code. “Let’s argue about music.” And a winking smiley. Paul cringed a little at that. 

Once more he replayed the exchange in his head and asked himself what had possessed him. Paul wouldn’t call himself bad a flirting, or at least there hadn’t been any major complaints so far, but he rarely bothered in the first place. 

Hugh Culber … There was something about him, something Paul couldn’t pinpoint, that had made his mouth say words without him consciously thinking about it. His directness and honesty certainly had been refreshing. Too few people actually were like that. And of course … Paul had eyes. He remembered that smile as Culber had agreed to exchange contact information and sighed a little dreamily before he could stop himself. Not to mention the white Starfleet uniform did a fantastic job accentuating all of his best … features. 

Right. Starfleet. That fact hadn’t even fully sunk in until he had taken his seat and the shuttle had taken off. Odd uniform, though, all in white … 

Paul froze. Blinked a few times. 

White. What was that again …? 

He picked up his PADD once more and did a quick search. 

Of course. White was medical. Paul had managed to crush head over heels on a _doctor_. A _Starfleet_ doctor, on top of that. 

_Fuck._

Maybe, his brain helpfully suggested, he wasn’t as great and charming as he seemed at first glance. Maybe once you got to know him he was a total idiot, just as boring and annoying as everyone else. Maybe he would turn out to be just like every other Starfleet asshole Paul had ever had the displeasure of meeting, and his charm would quickly wear off. 

_Yeah, probably not._

Who knew, anyway, how long Culber would be willing to put up with him. He had seemed interested enough during their little conversation, but Paul knew that nobody considered him an easy person to deal with. He pondered for a while whether he would want to make an effort for Hugh Culber. The conclusion he arrived at was “yes”. 

Sooner or later, he’d also have to figure out when, or even if, he wanted to make the first step and contact Culber. There wasn’t much of a point in fretting over that yet, but he had time and his brain was unoccupied, so it decided to fret away. It reminded him why he usually stayed away from dating or even engaging with other people in general. And what kind of terms were they even on? Had that really been flirting? As in _flirting_ -flirting? Or just a “let’s be friends”? He definitely wanted them very much to be friends. So he decided, for now, to focus on that and push back everything else. His experiences with making friends were bad enough already. No need to complicate the whole thing with extra layers. 

He glanced over to his right. Straal could have dropped out many times, continue his work solo, or with Amelia, or find any other research partners. Fortunately for Paul, though, he was stubborn enough to not be deterred easily. And actually a lot more tolerable than most other people, even if Paul didn’t like admitting it to his face. The last decade of knowing him had certainly been the longest friendship in Paul’s life so far. 

He went back to staring out of the window for a few more idle hours, thoughts whirling around Hugh Culber. The excitement to hopefully see him or hear from him again soon didn’t leave him all the way until they landed on Deneva. 


	7. Messages

Hugh’s coffee maker had just finished brewing a fresh cup of his morning coffee when the PADD on his kitchen counter made a noise indicating a new text message. He picked up the cup and curiously looked at the PADD to check who it could be at this hour. Hopefully not someone from work; he would be leaving in thirty minutes anyway but hated having to rush before he was properly awake.

To his surprise, it was a message from Paul.

_Hey there._

Hugh raised an eyebrow. Paul didn’t text him often, he usually preferred calls, and when he did, he got straight to the point. Hugh did a quick time conversion in his head. It had to be before noon for Paul still. So he typed his response.

_Good morning. What’s up?_

Then he sat down and started sipping his coffee. He didn’t have to wait for long.

_I’m bored and I miss you and I wanna talk._

There he was. Straight to the point again. Well, sort of.

_I didn’t think I’d ever hear the words “I’m bored” from you. Or read._

_I was banned from the lab._

Hugh frowned.

_Banned?_

_Apparently I’m sick._

Hugh noticed his worrying instincts kicking in immediately. For a moment he wondered if it was his “concerned doctor” instinct or rather the “concerned boyfriend” instinct. Probably both. Instead of bombarding Paul with the dozens of questions his message had raised at once, and because he knew Paul hated “doctoring”, he decided to take one step at a time. If Paul was bored, maybe he was more inclined to talk on his own.

_What’s wrong?_

_Caught some infection, apparently. So Straal said I’m not allowed near the kiddos because he thinks I might contaminate our work._

Of course, Hugh thought, Paul would be more concerned with getting his work done than with his own recovery. He made a mental note to thank Straal if he ever met him in person.

_What kind of infection? How are you feeling?_

_Dunno. The doctor was annoying so I didn’t pay attention. Feels like a normal cold except they couldn’t cure it in an instant, so it’s not that bad. But my voice is gone and I’m not allowed to speak._

Oh.

_I was wondering why you’re sending text messages all of a sudden._

_I hate it. My fingers are too slow for my brain. It’s such a hassle._

Hugh smiled fondly into his cup of coffee. He had suspected something like this. Personally, he had always been more of a texting person. But talking to Paul felt so comfortable, and listening to his voice was one of his favourite things on any given day, that he had grown to enjoy their regular conversations.

Another message popped up.

_And I miss your voice._

Something much warmer than the coffee spread somewhere inside his chest.

_If I call you’ll just be tempted to speak, and that’s bad for you. I have to leave for work now, but I can record a voice message for you later if you want?_

_I hope I won’t have died of boredom by then._

_You could start reading the novel series I recommended to you last week._

_Mhm. I still miss you._

_I love you, too._

 

It didn’t take long over the course of the day until Hugh’s PADD started lighting up repeatedly with messages from Paul. He didn’t really have time to respond to them because the star base’s hospital was having an exceptionally busy day, but every time he saw a new one, it made him smile.

 

_I think the replicator here is broken. Everything tastes like cardboard._

 

_Except the soup. That tastes like cardboard pulp._

 

_Update: Justin stopped by and he said everything tastes normal. He thinks it’s because I’m sick. Bullshit._

 

_Update 2: I hate to admit it but he might have a point. Don’t tell him I told you that._

 

_Damn. I was looking forward to the chocolate pudding today._

 

_Hey I need your medical expertise: How do I physically kick an infection’s ass?_

Hugh chuckled and took a moment to type a response.

_By taking it slowly and looking after yourself, darling._

Almost as soon as the message was sent out, Hugh could see that Paul was typing again, so he waited.

_That sounds like the coward method._

“Doctor Culber?” One of the nurses peeked into the room. “The two patients in room 32D have gotten into a fight again and it looks like they’ve given each other a few new injuries in the process.”

“Of course, I’m on my way.” He put his PADD away and followed her.

 

_I hope I’m not bothering you, by the way. You’re probably still busy with the Tellarite flu outbreak._

 

_Unless those patients are all dead by now. In which case, my condolences._

 

_Please be careful and don’t catch anything there. I know you took this fancy oath but you’re very important to me. And I don’t want to be introduced to your family at your funeral._

_Tellarite flu isn’t deadly, Paul, it’s just annoying and makes any patient who has it absolutely insufferable. But I appreciate the sentiment. And you’re never bothering me, I love seeing your messages._

_You’re the best. <3_

 

_Straal came over to check on me and be mean again. I told him to go fuck himself but he didn’t take me seriously and just started laughing at my voice. Isn’t it illegal to be mean to sick people? I’m legally allowed to mess with the replicator and change all of his coffee settings to soy milk and decaf now, right?_

 

_… Sorry I’m whining so much. You’ve got enough sick people to take care of already._

 

_Finished the second novel of your series and just started the third. I know you said to skip the third and it looks like you were right, but now I’ve committed to them so I’ll see this through._

 

_I wonder if we’ll ever discover a planet inhabited by warp-capable space unicorns here, too._

 

_Finished the third novel. These books are too short._

_Are you okay?_

_It’s fine, I’m a fast reader._

_But maybe rest your eyes a little in between._

_Don’t worry, I switched to the audiobook version for a few hours earlier._

_Just take it easy, okay?_

_This_ is _easy._

_Okay, honey._

 

That’s _the ending? Really? This has to be a joke! What’s going to happen next? I need to know, Hugh! I can’t wait half a year for the next book!_

_See? I told you. Did you like it?_

_I loved it! Well, most of it. Just like you said!_

_I’m happy to hear that!_

_… Listen, if you’re a mind reader or a telepath or something you better tell me now before this gets awkward._

Hugh laughed, earning him curious looks from one of his colleagues. He shrugged at him and returned his attention to his PADD.

_I promise I’m not._

 

_Solitary confinement is annoying._

_Solitary confinement? You’re not in quarantine, are you?_

_No, but there are no mushrooms here, and no Justin, and especially no you. So it might as well be._

_I wish I could be with you right now. The day over here has been exhausting._

_I know._

 

When he finally arrived at home, the first thing Hugh did was to let himself fall face-first onto the couch and just lie there for a full fifteen minutes. Then he checked the voice messages that were left in his absence. The first was from his youngest sister, with updates on his little twin nieces and on his abuela’s health. The second was about the medical symposium taking place in a few months. He considered them for a while before deciding to answer them later. First, he needed to record a message.

“Hey love! I hope you, um, you managed to survive the day after all, because I’ve got this message here for you, and I hope it’s been worth all the waiting and suffering. Please try to get some rest and sleep enough tonight so your recovery will be swift. Um, if you want, if you manage to, um, remember what kind of infection it is, you can let me know and I’ll see if I’ve got any more advice for you.” He wondered if Paul would take him up on the offer. He seemed less averse to Hugh’s opinions when it came to his health than what it sounded like when he talked about any other doctors.

“We’re still dealing with the Tellarite flu outbreak here and I hope we can get it under control soon. Some of the patients are so crabby they keep picking fights with each other and then someone gets hurt. Usually the medical personnel. But, well, that risk comes with the job, I guess. At least nothing too bad has happened yet. The other patients just keep nagging us and complain about every little thing. I’m starting to run out of patience.” He chuckled. “I’d love to see how you would deal with them. You’d probably manage to shut them up. But I don’t want you to get punched in the face. Apparently some non-Tellarites with Tellarite flu can get pretty violent and short-tempered, especially the humans.”

He considered his next words for a moment.

“I … have a suggestion for you. I got the ‘okay’ to attend a medical symposium at the end of the year. It’s, well, it’s still not awfully close to Deneva, I’m afraid, but you said you expect to be less busy in the lab around that time and … Well, maybe we could try meeting there again? It would only be a few days, I’m afraid, but it’s the first chance I’ve seen since the last time and, well, that one didn’t really go as well as planned, so …” He took a deep breath to stop himself from rambling. “Anyway, just let me know what you think. And make sure to kick that infection’s ass so I can hear your voice again soon. I love you. Good night!”


	8. Settling Down

Paul was feeling a little nervous and insecure as he hit the call button. All morning had been a battle between missing Hugh and wanting to talk to him versus the fear that Hugh might still be upset, that he might be angry at Paul, that Hugh might not want to talk to _him_. In the end, the former had won out, so now he was waiting anxiously for Hugh to pick up on the other end. 

Second after second passed, much longer than usual, until—finally. There he was. Looking awake enough but tired and not as well-rested as usual at this hour. And also not smiling at Paul like he usually did. Ouch. 

“Um,” Paul began, awkwardly waving a little. “Hi, love.” 

“Good morning, Paul.” 

Double ouch. He cringed at the cold greeting and let his hand drop into his lap. 

“Um, look, about last night … I’m sorry about getting angry. And about … hanging up on you. Yesterday was stressful and frustrating for me, but I shouldn’t have acted like an ass and taken it out on you.” 

He just barely dared to glance at Hugh. His expression was still stony, edges hard and his mouth a thin line. 

“The hanging up really hurt, you know.” 

Paul winced. 

“I know. I regretted it the second the connection was cut. It kept me up all night, thinking about how I fucked up.” 

Hugh’s face softened a little, but it was still unhappy. 

“I didn’t sleep much either.” 

Paul looked at him sympathetically. 

“Yeah, I can tell.” He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. “I … probably said a lot of things that—that weren’t fair, and I know this whole thing puts us and our relationship in a difficult situation. I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.” With another nervous glance at Hugh, he asked, “Are you mad at me for choosing my work over us?” 

The anger finally seemed to fade. Instead, it was replaced by sadness. 

“Paul, I wouldn’t force you to make that decision. And …” He sighed. “You didn’t. This wasn’t a decision for or against us.” 

“It wasn’t? I thought you took it that way yesterday.” 

Hugh leaned forward and rested his weight on his elbows on the table. 

“No, that’s not it. I get why you made the decision you did. I don’t appreciate you taking your frustration out on me, but that was also my fault for getting angry about your decision without articulating why.” 

He put his right hand forward on the table, as if out of a reflex to reach out for him. Paul felt a painful urge to be able to hold his hand right now. 

“Simply for us, I doubt there’s much of a difference between being long-distance on another planet or on a spaceship. It’s not going increase our opportunities to meet, but it’s also not going to get much worse than it already is. The point is that I’m worried about _you_.” 

Paul frowned. 

“Me?” 

“You’re not cut out for this. You’re not the military type. And this isn’t like joking about you joining Starfleet and going on science expeditions to study mushrooms on other planets. They’re sending you into a war zone. To be honest …” He hesitated, before he seemed to conclude that there was no point in trying to withhold his opinion. “I disagree with Starfleet. I think it’s wrong of them to do this. Straal shouldn’t have agreed with it, either.” 

“Well … I don’t think I can get him to back out now. I’ve tried that, extensively.” 

“Yes … Which gives them enough leverage that you have no choice, unless you give up all of your research.” 

“I can’t do that,” Paul said quietly. He felt small and weak and defeated, shoulders hunched, gaze dropped to the floor. The lack of sleep wasn’t helping. 

“I know. And I’d never expect you to.” Hugh’s face was sympathetic and warm. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t want to spend every day in fear of bad news that something happened to you. That I get a call from Starfleet that you were captured by Klingons, or that an accident happened with your technology and blew the ship up. I wish …” 

Paul eyed him expectantly, but he didn’t continue. He seemed to be thinking. 

“What?” 

“I wish I could go with you and look after you.” 

The memory of a conversation with Justin from a while ago resurfaced. _What if he was stationed on the same ship as you?_

“No!” 

“But think about it—” 

“Absolutely not. You think _I_ want _you_ in the middle of this war, Hugh?” 

“This is different, Paul. I’m Starfleet. I signed up for all of this. I’ve had proper training. And as a doctor, I’m not going to be right at the front line.” 

“This is not up for debate, Hugh.” He still looked ready to challenge him again. Paul sighed. “Look, I absolutely want to be with you. I really do. But I don’t want you to jump right into danger because of me. Do you know how relieved I’ve been this whole time that you’re stationed somewhere far away from any war zone?” 

“I understand that,” Hugh said quietly. 

Paul leaned back and looked out the window, getting lost in thoughts. 

“Maybe one day when we both retire, we can settle down somewhere together,” he said. 

Hugh sounded amused when he responded, “You want to grow old and retire with me?” 

“Hmmm.” 

“We’re not that old yet, though. That’s still so far away.” 

“I know. But it’s still nice to look forward to it.” 

“I don’t wanna wait that long,” Hugh said. “As soon as my deployment here is over, I’m applying for somewhere closer to you.” 

Paul frowned. 

“But what about your career?” 

“I can have that elsewhere, too. This place is nice but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here.” 

“Just … don’t make decisions like that just because of me, okay?” 

Hugh smiled at him but didn’t respond. 

Paul looked out the window again. 

“If you could settle down and make a home anywhere you wanted right now, what would you choose?” 

“With you?” 

Paul smiled. 

“Ideally.” 

“I’d like to go back home to earth. Somewhere with a mild climate, so you don’t have to worry about sunburns, and I don’t have to be cold. Somewhere with lots of nature around.” 

The picture started taking shape in Paul’s mind as he spoke. 

“I want a little house,” he said. “With a garden. Growing our own vegetables. Flowers. Trees. A cozy spot to sit and read, or to cuddle and watch the stars on a warm night. A forest nearby, maybe, with lots of mushrooms in it. Old-growth forest would be ideal.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Hugh hummed a little. “What about pets? I’d love to have a dog.” 

“I like cats,” Paul said. 

“How about both?” 

“That might work.” 

Paul could sense the next question hovering between them, unsure if he dreaded it or not. But Hugh just smiled at him again and didn’t ask it. 

“If we were living together I would cook for you every day. I would learn to cook and to bake all of your favorite meals and I would make you breakfast in bed on the weekends.” 

“I’ll have to watch out to stay in shape then.” Hugh grinned. “If we were living together I would take you on lots of dates. Seeing amazing landmarks, wandering through museums that you’re interested in or galleries of your favorite artists. I’d learn to play or sing your favorite songs for you, and take you on picnics to watch shooting stars or fireflies.” 

Paul’s cheeks were almost hurting from smiling so much. 

“I can’t wait for all of this.” 

Hugh glanced at the corner of his screen and sighed. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave now, babe. Talk to you tonight?” 

The smile faded slightly from Paul’s cheeks. 

“Of course. Call me whenever you have time. I’ll probably be working alone in the lab until late, but I wouldn’t mind company.” 

“All right, I will.” 

“Hugh?” he said after a moment of hesitation. “Thanks for not being mad at me.” 

Hugh smiled softly. 

“How could I be? I know this must be really hard for you.” 

In this moment, Paul once more became painfully aware of how much he missed Hugh’s arms around him. 

“Did they tell you a project name yet?” Hugh asked casually. 

“No. They were being very nebulous about everything.” 

“As soon as you learn something, let me know. I’ll see if I can dig up any internal info.” 

Paul frowned at him again. 

“That’s going to be classified. I don’t think you’ll have access as long as it doesn’t pertain to you.” 

A suspiciously mischievous grin crept onto Hugh’s face. It caused an uneasy feeling in Paul’s gut, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

“We’ll see about that.” Hugh shifted in his chair. “All right, darling, I gotta go. See you tonight!” 

He waved a little, and Paul reflexively waved back. 

“Bye! Have a nice day at work!” 

The video call ended, and Paul felt overwhelmingly alone. _Don’t indulge in wishful thinking about him coming with you_ , he told himself, _that’s only going to make it worse._

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who leaves any comments on my works: Thank you so much, they make me happier than you can imagine. And if I don’t respond to them it’s because I’ve used up all the words on my writing and all I’m left with is feelings I can’t articulate. <3


End file.
